


Stay

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: Star Trek
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's good, I promise, just read it. I'm too tired for summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“It still haunts me Spock,” Kirk admitted, staring into the thick black liquid of some indecipherable alcoholic concoction. Spock said nothing, let him continue. “Seeing the ship slip away, hurdle towards the planet. It felt like I died.”

“But you did not die,” Spock offered his attempts at consolation. “If anything, you saved the crew, and the crew is the true heart of the Enterprise.”

At that, Jim’s brow un-furrowed , and Spock could see a streak of hopefulness flit across his features. But the relief was only momentary, and Jim’s facade descended back into darkness. 

“I heard that you were thinking of leaving Star Fleet,” he said, shifting his weight awkwardly. He could feel his heart beat against the cage of his ribs. Spock’s response to this inquiry meant everything.

“I did consider resigning from Star Fleet,” Spock admitted, Jim’s eyes darting up to meet his. There a depth of sadness in the blue ocean that Spock had only ever witnessed once - when Jim lay dying in the radioactive chamber. 

“But you’re staying?”

“Yes Jim.”

Jim exhaled, not realizing that he had been holding his breath. He shifted the glass in his hand before setting it down. They were in his chambers, and Jim was aware of Spock’s every move. But as usual, it was nearly impossible to read the Vulcan.

“If I had decided to leave Star Fleet...” Spock posited, “what course of action would you take? Who would you choose to be your second in command?”

Jim picked the glass back up and took a swig. “No one,” he said, after the alcohol stopped burning his throat, leaving his voice ragged and vulnerable.”

“I do not understand captain.”

Spock’s hands reappeared from behind his back and rested at his side as he walked closer to Kirk. 

“I wouldn’t have chosen anyone Spock, because I would have left too.”

Alarm flashed across Spock’s face as his eyes darkened to a deep Earthy brown. “What do you mean? Have you lost your desire to captain the Enterprise?” 

“No, no, of course not,” Jim shook his head, setting the glass down on the table and leaning against it as if were life support. Before he could stop the words they slipped out... “I couldn’t be captain without you Spock.”

The Vulcan looked surprised. “Of course you could remain captain without me,” he said, rather logically. “I know I could,” Kirk admitted, already too far down this road to turn back, “but I wouldn’t want to.”

A loaded silence passed between them, weighing down the already heavy atmosphere. 

“Does my presence as your second in command have that great an impact on your performance as captain?” he still didn’t get it.

Kirk’s eyes again looked sad, made of glass, ready to shatter. There was an unspeakable pain that resided somewhere just beneath the surface of Jim Kirk and for the first time, Spock could see it, touch it almost. But why was Jim sad?

“You make all the difference,” Kirk said in a whisper, his voice cracking. He remembered seeing Nyota with the necklace on, he knew what that meant, they were still together, and it felt like a knife wrenching in his soul. He didn’t want to face his affinity for Spock, he didn’t want to admit his disappointment in hearing that Spock and Nyota nearly broke up but didn’t. He didn’t want to confront that his first thought after landing on the alien planet in dire straits was, “where’s Spock? I need Spock”

Lost in thought, Jim was startled to see that Spock had drawn closer to him, his head cocked as if he was telepathically trying to decipher Kirk’s thoughts. 

A blush flew over Jim’s face. He didn’t want to back up, he didn’t want to show weakness or look like he was hiding something.

“You are becoming rather flushed captain, are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Jim choked out the lie. “Must be the alcohol.”

“You have only had one drink.” 

“Look Spock,” Jim said, his hands balled into nervous fists so tight that his nails dug fiercely into his skin, “I have to go.”

He tried to escape, but Spock caught his arm and brought them even closer.

“You know that you can tell me anything Jim,” Spock offered. 

They were so impossibly close that Jim could feel the heat radiating off Spock’s skin. He could smell Spock’s shampoo and savored the vice grip on his arm. Immediately he felt his blood being redirected and lurching forward, his eyes locked on Spock’s lips. God, those lips could sink star ships. The way they curved into sly smiles, the way they pursed in concern or offered brilliant suggestions...

“Captain?” 

His eyes snapped back up to Spock’s. He cleared his throat, said “I know.” He then rushed from the room, only realizing once outside that he’d just left his own quarters and had nowhere else to go.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim fled from his quarters and immersed himself in physical activity. He stepped into the rec room and didn’t leave until three hours had passed. He pressed his body to it’s limit, savoring the physical ache instead of the emotional ache that he had grown accustomed to.

Sweat poured off his brow. It was well past midnight. He’d only get about five hours of sleep tonight if he was lucky. Stepping off the running machine, Jim’s knees nearly buckled. His muscles felt like jelly and the room spun for a moment. He lurched towards his water and drank until he nearly threw up.

Thoughts began to replace his post-workout euphoria and he wondered what Spock must be thinking right now. Did the Vulcan notice his eyes locked onto his lips? Or the way that he leaned forward, just slightly, drawn into Spock’s warmth and security?

They had never really talked since the ship went down and they resumed their mission. There was so much left unsaid. Jim knew that Spock was mourning…well…himself…Ambassador Spock. And he was mourning too. Seeing that necklace on Uhura felt like a death sentence. 

Jim shook his head, wiping his sweaty hand through his drenched hair. He wondered when it happened? When had he become so dependent on Spock? When was the day that he first longed to see his first officer? How had he let fantasy seep into reality to the point where he was now harboring a major crush on Spock?

If Spock had left Starfleet, that would’ve been it. There’s no way he could stay without Spock. How had he gotten to that point? The point where it was he and Spock or nothing at all?

It scared the shit out of Jim to think that he was somehow dependent on Spock. His insides felt like his outsides after a hard workout…made of jelly, prone to collapse, exhausted, vulnerable. The last thing he wanted to do was screw up the most important relationship in his life, so on his walk back to his quarters, Jim resolved to let go of any romantic notions he had of Spock. 

Although it was a private, unwritten, unspoken resolution, it still felt like a knife to the heart. There went Jim’s fleeting daydreams, there went his unrestrained reactions towards Spock, there went their chess matches and time alone, there went Jim’s hope. But he was protecting their friendship, their current relationship, their future together in Starfleet…right?

The lengthy white halls seemed to stretch to eternity, and each step Jim took sent pain shooting up his legs. But he finally made it back to his door. Right before he pressed his thumbprint to the scanner, Kirk’s stomach jumped as he considered the possibility that Spock might still be in his room. But there’s no way Spock would stick around unaccompanied in someone else’s private space…at least that’s what Jim hoped.

He pressed his thumb to the cool glass and the door whooshed open. Jim let out a sigh of relief as he observed his empty room. He peeled his clothes off and headed into the bathroom that he shared with Spock (a fact that he was suddenly hyper aware of). 

Jim set the shower to freezing and stepped in. It reminded him of being stranded on Delta Vega, which subsequently reminded him of meeting Spock Prime. A pang of sadness washed over Jim along with the freezing water. He remembered Spock Prime touching his head and feeling an overwhelming rush of memories and feelings crashing into him. Melding with Spock prime was an experience he’d never forget. But Spock Prime only let him see what he wanted him to see.

Jim desperately wished he could have pried more, or questioned Spock Prime about his “destined” relationship with the Vulcan. There was so much Jim didn’t know, so much that he wanted to know, and Spock being the private Vulcan he was…wouldn’t let him in sometimes. Jim wanted in. He wanted to know everything about Spock, everything about Spock Prime and Jim Prime’s relationship. 

Jim bit his lip hard and let his forehead crash into the wall in front of him. He was so frustrated…emotionally, mentally, sexually…and he felt himself slipping into a bad mood. 

Kirk needed to figure out how he was going to confront Spock on the bridge the next shift. How would he bring their chess games to an end? And if he pulled away too much, would it only force Spock and Uhura closer together? God, he hoped not.

After about an hour, Jim stepped out of the shower and toweled off, staring long and hard at Spock’s door before finally turning and shutting off the lights.


	3. Search Party

“What the hell is going on?” Bones voiced the thoughts that the crew wouldn’t.

“I do not know what is going on,” Spock answered. “I saw the captain yesterday evening. According to the cameras he went to work out at eleven and returned to his room at two in the morning.”

“So where is he?” Bones threw his hands up.

“Corridor cameras do not show him coming out of his room. Security has swept his room and checked three quarters of the Enterprise. His communicator was left on his nightstand, but I believe that if he were on the ship, he would have responded to our requests to return to the bridge.”

“What are you saying? That he’s off the ship? Where? On the planet we’re orbiting? The transporter room hasn’t beamed anyone down and the cameras don’t show him heading to the transporter.”

“I know,” Spock answered cooly, turning to his screen and pulling up surveillance footage. “I do not think that the left the Enterprise of his own free will.”

“He was kidnapped!” Bones nearly yelled. 

“Look at the screen,” Spock said, every head on the bridge craning to look. At 4:06 a.m. there is a marked disruption in the video footage, every camera around Jim’s room goes to static for approximately five seconds. And then it happens again at 4:08.”

“What are you suggesting? Someone beamed aboard the Enterprise, knowing that there’s no cameras in private quarters, and beamed Jim down to the planet?”

“I am suggesting it is a possibility.”

“Well shit,” Bones grumbled, “too bad Kirk isn’t your boyfriend, you could’ve given him one of those Vulcan tracking necklaces like you gave Uhura.”

The comment caught Spock completely off guard and his cheeks flushed a fresh shade of spring green. “My intention was never to track Uhura,” he mumbled.

“Yeah well, it came in handy during our last crisis,” Bones put his hands on his hips as he searched his mind for answers. “I guess we’re heading down to the planet.”

“I will accompany you,” Spock said.

“The hell you will, you’re in charge of the Enterprise now. You’re staying here.” And with that, Bones disappeared to gather a landing party.

——— — 

They had a search party put together and beamed down to the class M planet in less than an hour. 

Spock waited with baited breath, watching their every move, listening to every communication, but every attempt to find Kirk thus far had failed. Spock tried to get inside of Jim’s mind, think like his captain would think, but the truth was that there was a rift between them. Spock wasn’t sure how it got there and the very fact that it existed alarmed him to no end.

Last night there was so much emotion in Jim’s eyes, so many unspoken words, and what if Jim never got the chance to speak them?

The Vulcan immediately chastised himself for having such a thought. They would find Jim, he must remain positive.

Bu as the hours dragged past, Spock could feel hope dimming on the bridge. The crew was scared, frustrated and uncertain and as the acting captain, Spock had to keep his cool. 

By the end of the shift, no one had yet left the bridge. Spock had to order them to their quarters. 

“We must rest,” he offered. “The planet’s dense forrest fog prohibits us from making progress and the crew needs to be as sharp as possible tomorrow.” Spock fought to keep anxiety from gripping his voice. “There is nothing more that we can do tonight, so I am ordering you to your quarters to get rest. If McCoy and the search party give me any news at all, I will let everyone know immediately.” He paused, staring the unmoving faces of his colleagues. “You are dismissed,” he said sternly, internally grateful for their devotion to finding his friend.

As the crew shuffled out of the space and the second shift commented, Spock waited so that he would be the only one in the turbo lift. His efforts failed as Uhura stepped in behind him.

“It will be okay,” she said, “we’ll find him.” 

Spock let out a barely audible sigh. For some reason, Uhura’s false assurance grated on his nerves. “You do not know that,” he shot back. “What if we do not find him, or worse, what if we find him dead,” his eyes went cold.

Uhura couldn’t conceal the shock on her face.

“I watched him die once,” Spock said, “I do not think that I could handle anything like that again.”

The doors whooshed open.

“I’m here if you need me,” she said softly, but her remark was met with silence as Spock stepped into the corridor.

———— 

That night passed incredibly slowly. Spock attempted to meditate but failed. Every time he would let his mind relax, he would see the broken expression on Jim’s face the last time they talked. So instead, he lay in bed staring into the darkness, unaware that this would only be the first of several sleepless nights.


	4. Chapter 4

McCoy and a security detail spent four days following life readings on the planet, looking for leads. After a fourth day in blistering heat and humidity, Spock made the tough call to beam up the search party. They were exhausted, filthy and crestfallen.

Every hour that slipped past with no sign of Jim weighed on Spock’s heart. He put on a strong facade for the crew, but his hope began to flicker and dim.

He wasn’t getting much sleep either.

After telling the search party to clean themselves up and get some rest, he walked to his quarters and attempted to sleep. All that resulted was a nightmare, so he remained awake for the rest of the night. It worked to his advantage, and he shot up out of bed when his communicator went off.

Spock’s jet black hair bounced up and down as he ran down the stark white corridors to the bridge. He was wide awake, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heart nearly beat out of his side when he took in what was on the screen. 

It was an arial shot of Jim, bloodied, bruised, running. 

“Get a security team down there now!” Spock nearly shouted. 

“We can’t sir, the dense fog has electrostatic qualities, if we attempted to beam someone up, their particles would destabilize.”

“What’s the situation?” Spock asked, squinting into the screen and trying to make sense of the frantic scene.

“There are unidentified humanoids that appear to be after the captain,” Sulu updated him. “He probably used the cover of the fog and the dense forrest to his advantage to make an escape,” he posited. “And he’s not alone.”

——

Jim’s lungs screamed in agony. His feet tried to find traction in the sticky sinew beneath his feat. He could barely see two feet in front of him, but his mission was clear: get back to the Enterprise in one piece and take Scavan with him. 

He was held (and tortured) by the Morlocks and had met Scavan during his imprisonment. From what Scavan understood, the Morlocks were excited about the presence of the Enterprise and were going to use Jim as bait to take over the ship. The only flaw in their plan was the dense electrical fog and uncooperative weather. It had kept Jim here for days, and if the ship left without him, he would be stranded like Scavan, who was abandoned by his ship at the tender age of 13. He was now 14, his arm in the vice grip of Jim’s hand, stumbling through the forrest towards freedom.

The air was thin, and it took two breaths to get as much oxygen as one breath on Earth offered. Jim was wounded, luckily Scavan was not. But neither of them knew the terrain, which proved disadvantageous since they were running right towards a cliff.

The wind was screaming around them as a storm blew over the black and gray mountains. It was night, and the two moons that hung overhead provided only a trickle of light. 

Jim was in front and nearly slipped off the edge of the cliff, luckily stopping just in time to disturb a few rocks. He gasped, trying to catch his breath and looking down at the precipice. He wished for water, but his eyes found only jagged rocks at the bottom.

He looked over at Scavan, whose eyes were filled with terror. That kid would rather die than go back to being a prisoner.

Jim’s gaze scanned the area behind them. He was hoping to have lost the Morlocks chasing them in the dense forrest, but now they were out in the open and their silhouettes gave them away. He could make out a six foot Morlock barreling right towards he and Scavan.

In a split second decision, he pushed the teen as hard as he could, to the ground parallel to the cliff. In a freak stroke of luck, Scavan was pushed into an area free from fog and before Jim was pushed over the edge he saw his atoms turn gold and materialize.

———

Time stood still for Spock and the rest of the crew. As soon as the young man was pushed from the fog they beamed him up…and then watched in horror as a large humanoid ran towards their captain. He slammed into the golden shirt and they both toppled over the edge.

Spock’s heart skipped beats as he watched his friend fall hundreds of feet. 

“Catch him!” he screamed, watching Jim and the humanoid struggle on the way down.

“I’m trying!” 

“TRY HARDER!!”

The intertwined bodies spiraled down further…and further… and further…

Suddenly, and much to Spock’s relief, he saw the golden signature of dematerialization and began the frantic run to the transporter room.

A thousand thoughts were racing through the Vulcan’s mind, and yet, time seemed to stand still. He could feel every rush of air through his hair, every beat of his heart, every staggered breath. The hallways stretched on and on…until they eventually gave way to the room Spock was searching for.

He could hear a sound…a wail…and it morphed into a scream. Jim’s scream. 

The sound made Spock’s blood turn to ice, and in a moment, he saw Jim falling to the pad. He hit the floor of it with a sharp thud, and a large metallic object that was lodged into his abdomen, was pushed up by the force of meeting the floor. 

Scavan was off to the side, watching in horror as red shirts tried to drag him from the room. 

Spock rushed to Jim, sliding on his knees to meet his best friend, his captain. Jim was screaming in agony, hands shaking around the wound of the object that was impailing him. Spock took him by the nape of his neck and held him as Jim bit into Spock’s shoulder, trying and failing not to scream.

Jim was in an inordinate amount of pain, and it led Spock to do something that he never thought he would.


End file.
